Part I: Moving Mountains

"For once in your life push your ambitions aside, and instead of moving mountains let the mountains move you. For once in your life just stop to open your eyes, and instead of moving mountains let the mountains move you."

—'Moving Mountains' by Skylar Grey

Kathryn is livid... with her future self.

"Seven years ago, you had the chance to use the Caretaker's array to get Voyager home," the old admiral accuses. "Instead, you destroyed it."

"I did what I knew was right," Kathryn snaps back.

"You chose to put the lives of strangers ahead of the lives of your crew. You can't make the same mistake again."

"You got Voyager home, which means I will too. If it takes a few more years then that's—"

"Chakotay is going to die," the admiral interrupts.

Kathryn blinks, processing the sudden revelation. "What?"

"Three years from now," the admiral explains bluntly, all pretense suddenly ripped away. "He is injured on an away mission. He gets back to the ship, and then dies in the arms of his wife."

Kathryn's eyes go wide. "His wife?"

The admiral blinks, coating her eyes with a glassy sheen. Her voice shakes unmistakably when she says, "Me."

Kathryn's mouth drops open, a choking sound ripping from the back of her throat. She forces her mouth shut and then growls, "I don't believe you," as she whips around and walks away.

"He's dating Seven, by the way. It's why he turned down your invitation to lunch the other day."

Kathryn freezes in her tracks, throwing her hand out towards the corridor wall to keep herself from falling over. No. It's not true. He would never do that to her. Chakotay would never hurt her like that.

Would he?

"It hasn't been going on long," the admiral continues, undeterred, "but he will convince himself it's real... for a time."

Kathryn's fingers curl into claws against the wall. Her other hand clutches at her stomach as if she might be sick. After a second, she forces herself to stand up straight again. She refuses to turn around, to look at the bitter old woman behind her. "I don't care," she murmurs.

She can almost hear the cruel grin in the admiral's voice as the older woman replies, "Don't you, though? Come now, Kathryn. You may be able to lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me. Think about it. What does this information make you want to do?"

"Nothing," Kathryn is quick to reply. Too quick. She turns to look at the admiral and lifts her chin defiantly. "He is perfectly at liberty to date whomever he chooses."

"You want to punch him," she answers with a chuckle. "You won't, but the thought crossed your mind. You will fight about it, though. You'll yell. He'll yell. All that tension that has been building between you for so long will finally snap. And then, you'll be in each other's arms. You'll cry when you finally admit to him and to yourself the truth you've tried to bury for too long—you love him. He'll say it back like he's been holding it in for seven years, because he has. He'll immediately break it off with Seven, and you'll be married within a year."

Kathryn couldn't breathe. "And then he will die."

All the cruelty leaves the admiral's face as she answers with a solemn nod. "You'll never be the same, and neither will anyone else. Oh, don't worry—you carry on with your duty like a good Starfleet captain. Tuvok makes a fine first officer... while he can."

Kathryn's body snaps to attention. "What? What happens to Tuvok?"

The admiral raises an eyebrow. "You're forgetting about the Temporal Prime Directive, Captain."

"To hell with it."

"Fine. Tuvok has a degenerative neurological condition that he hasn't told you about. There's a cure in the Alpha Quadrant, but if he doesn't get it in time..."

Kathryn stays silent as the implication soaks through her skin and deep into her soul.

"By the time he is forced to resign, Tom is quite ready to take his place. But, your heart died with Chakotay, and you'll never get it back. And the crew never get over the loss of their executive officer."

Suddenly, Kathryn could feel the anger rising in her like a tangible thing. This woman is sick, she thinks as her lips curl into a snarl. "So you came back in time, erased sixteen years of history, just to save your husband? You're a disgrace to that uniform!"

"I came back to save one hundred and fifty lives," the older woman spits, stepping forward so that she's centimeters away from Kathryn's face. "Between this day and the day you get home, you will lose twenty-two of your crew. But the truth is that all of us have been dying, piece by piece, for decades. We make it back to Earth, yes, but nobody makes it home. Not even the children. This journey takes the soul away from all of us. I'm here to change that. Maybe I am a disgrace to the uniform. Fine. Better me than you. You have what you need to get them all home, safe and sound, today. You can hate me all you want, but don't be the reason nobody ever leaves this god-forsaken quadrant intact."